"Jack" Series, Part 1: Jack Arrives

5. Aftermath III:  Jack & Rocky

It was late when Jack Obernikoch returned to his house. He’d had a long and entertaining evening out on the town with Tiran and various local players, building on his post-meeting high. He was almost cheerful as he came up the steps, until he felt the presence of something waiting for him and saw the blurred, dark outlines of a figure on his front porch.

Jack knew who it was. He felt himself bracing mentally but continued up the stairs without changing his pace. From the corner of his eye, as he reached the door, he saw the figure in the corner shift position.

"Please forgive me for disturbing you, sir," Rocky breathed.

Jack didn’t. What the fuck time was it? How long had Rocky been waiting? He had to have it out now, it couldn’t wait till morning? Jack turned the key in the front door and slid it open.

"Just – just the tiniest moment of your time – please, sir, if I might …" Rocky’s voice came from behind Jack on the porch, trailing away after the first words as though he had steeled himself only so far and had already reached his limit.

Inside the house, the hall light glowed gold and inviting against the cold, black night air. As Jack stepped through the door, he glanced back out and suddenly felt a strange sort of relief to be walking into the warm glow of the little chalet, and not waiting stiff and cold in the darkness outside

It might have been something almost like benevolence that came over Jack as he paused inside the doorway, or maybe it was just the last of the alcohol warming his veins. The weight that had returned the moment he saw Rocky softened and he felt a familiar, casual disdain.  A rush of half-formed thoughts tumbled through his mind -- he hadn’t expected this confrontation quite so soon – but Tiran wouldn’t cave so quickly, would he? ... And here was a nice item to add to the "Rocky" column of his list next week – a chance to teach a lesson ... or maybe to learn something useful himself – perhaps a moment of truth between them ...?

He paused and turned his gaze to Rocky who waited, kneeling, still in the corner of the porch. "What the fuck are you doing, Van," he said contemptuously.

It wasn’t much of an opening but Rocky seized it. "I’m so sorry to trouble you, sir. I – I only feared it would be disrespectful to wait."

A quick anger flared through Jack abruptly. "You think you’re entitled to show up here anytime because this used to be your place?"

Even in the murky darkness, Jack could see Rocky’s surprise. "No, sir. Certainly not."

"Then why the fuck wouldn’t you wait for my office hours, if you so desperately have to talk to me?"

"I … I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure …"

"Well, let me explain to you," Jack cut him off harshly. "My home is personal. I don’t have anything to say to you personally." His voice was thick with disdain. "If you want to talk to me, you do it during work hours."

"Yes, sir. I’m so sorry. I understand now." Rocky nodded quickly and Jack felt him edging backwards. "I’m so sorry to disturb you, I’ll see you ..."

"Stop." Jack looked around, almost startled by his own voice, then reached into the living room and pulled a chair to the front hall. He sat down just inside the door, wondering where this sudden urge had come from, and put his feet up leisurely on a planter on the porch. He felt the amber light from the hall envelope him, and watched as Rocky halted in surprise; keeping him off-balance was a pleasant bonus. "You’ve already pissed me off," Jack said with feigned friendliness.  "You think you aren’t going to pay for this next week? You might as well get some mileage out of it."

Rocky paused and again, Jack could feel his confusion. "Sir? I … I understand, I have no business disturbing you."

"Are you arguing with me, Van?" Jack asked mock-affably, tilting back his chair and surveying Rocky.

"I’m sorry, sir – " Rocky stopped, and Jack watched him, feeling like a satisfied cat waiting for its mouse to try another move. After a moment Rocky spoke again, more tentatively than ever. "Did … did you want me to continue, sir?"

" 'Want' ?" Jack repeated pensively, as though not quite understanding, and even in the darkness he saw Rocky flush.

"I’m sorry sir. I mean, now that I’ve already disturbed you, shall I … shall I continue?"

"You can go and get me a beer first."

"Yes, sir," Rocky said, obviously relieved to have a clear order. He got up and slid beside Jack into the house.

While he waited, Jack leaned back thoughtfully in his chair, watching the lights in the big house across the lawn. The lower ones were turned off while he watched, and somewhere upstairs a new glow appeared.
Rocky came back with the drink, handed it to Jack, and knelt down in front of him, not quite as far away this time but still maintaining a respectful distance.

"Mr. Obernikoch …" he began, having obviously gathered his thoughts slightly during the break. "Thank you for telling me what I should have already known. I’m extremely sorry to have interrupted you and intruded, and I look forward to being appropriately punished for it next week – or, or, whenever you choose," he added hastily. "A word from you and I’m gone, sir. But if … if you are considering allowing me to finish what I was going to say … I – I’d take up no more than a moment of your time."

He paused and waited, and Jack deliberately took a drink, offering nothing.

After a moment, Rocky went on, his small moment of assurance already lost. "I only hoped to – to say one thing, sir ... "

Jack waited some more, enjoying the way his silence increased Rocky’s agitation.

After another moment of hesitation, Rocky seemed to take the plunge. "My concern – my fear is that I may have … inadvertently done something to anger you, sir." He paused, then took a breath as though about to start again.

But Jack cut him off with a look of amused contempt. "You think I need a reason not to like you, Van Valkenberg?"

"No sir." Rocky answered instantly, with a quick conviction that gratified Jack slightly. "No sir, I know you don’t. If there is no reason, then I only have to thank you for your – for your – for everything, and then beg for permission to ... to stop disturbing you."

"And if there was a reason?" Jack asked abruptly, out of curiosity.

"If I have done something wrong, sir – " Rocky responded with a sudden urgency, "I – I can’t rest without telling you how sorry I am. I wish I … I know I should realize what I did without being told, and I'm afraid to take up any more of your time and patience … so all I can do is tell you how deeply sorry I am to have … angered you so soon – to have angered you at all I mean. Whatever I did, I’m truly sorry and can only work harder to avoid doing it in the future."

"Doing what in the future?" Jack asked, toying with him amusedly

Rocky bit his lip. "Doing anything that displeases you, sir."

They sat looking at each other for a moment. Jack was thinking to himself, surveying the kneeling figure in front of him like a plaything. It was pleasant to watch Rocky twist in the wind, but how much information was he actually gaining? As usual with the boys, it seemed like there was a lot of talk with nothing of substance conveyed. It had only been three days, but already he was weary of it.

"Why don’t we just cut the bullshit, Van?" he said abruptly and, again, felt a flash of pleasure at the confusion he saw in Rocky’s eyes. Jack yawned pointedly – though he really was tired. "I’m bored of it. Why not just cut to the chase?"

Rocky looked at him for a long moment, before answering carefully, "What shall I tell you, please, sir?"

Jack moved impatiently in his chair. "Do you think I’m stupid? How long are you going to keep up this charade? I know who the real players are here, do you think I don’t?" He felt the restrained frustration and resentment spill out in his voice. "I know what your plan is – or some idea -- why don’t you just admit it? You know we’re going to have it out in the end. Why not deal with it like two adults?" He couldn't mask his contempt, but tried to swallow it back to finish with a sardonic offer: "Who knows, maybe we can cut a deal." Obviously Jack had no intention of making any deals with Rocky Van Valkenburg, but all’s fair, as he thought bitterly to himself, in love and war.

Rocky listened intently to Jack’s tirade, watching him with dark, thoughtful eyes. When Jack stopped, Rocky looked down for a moment, then back up, and Jack was almost shocked at the softness in his gaze. "I’m very sorry sir. I don’t think … I don’t know  … I don’t know how to do what you're asking me to. I have nothing to suggest or ask you for. It's for you and Tiran to make deals, sir.  Whatever you decide on, I accept unconditionally." For a brief moment he held Jack’s gaze openly, without fear. Then he bowed his head and Jack thought he was finished, but he added gently, "I am not your opponent, Mr.Obernikoch."

The last words were spoken so quietly that Jack almost didn’t hear them under the noise of his chair pushing back and his heavy strides into the house. The front door carried all the weight of his response as it slammed against the frame, shutting out the cold night air and the kneeling figure on the porch.